Tears of Orochi
by Elijah Snow
Summary: Siblings by blood, bound together by the cruel destiny given to them by fate...


Author: Elijah Snow   
Email: Fourth_man@dcemail.com 

Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma½, or any of the other tittles I've planned to mix into this story, and   
hereby admit that I am using them without permission of the original creators. If some crackpot wants to   
sue me because of this, and even somehow manages to find me, please do use the backdoor. I usually   
shoot through it before opening it… 

Warning: Do not sit too close to the monitor while reading this story, as it has been scientifically proved   
that it can be harmful to your eyes, as has been the fact that reading stuff like this can permanently   
damage your brain. 

(Author's notes/rants/apologies follow at the end of the chapter). 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   
Tears of Orochi   
++++++++++++   
Prologue   
+++++++ 

It was early in the morning, twenty-third of May, nineteen ninety-five, when the first sunrays of the day   
washed over the small private cemetery area somewhere in the southern Kyoto. And as the light of the   
morning sun swept over this patch of earth, a lonely figure strolled through the large, black iron gates   
that lead into this area of the graveyard, where officially only the members of the family and the up   
keepers of cemetery were allowed to enter. 

He was about six-foot tall, just below twenty years old, with stark red hair, strong looking body frame,   
long black overcoat, dark red leather pants, and a pair of expensive looking boots that probably cost   
more than your average salary man could get in a month's pay. In his right hand he was cradling a small   
stack of red roses, wrapped together with some kind of white wrapping paper, and large, round bottle of   
sake in his left. 

The air was sharp and cold, causing his breath to come out in small puffs of smog that were left trailing   
behind him as he moved deeper into the private grounds that had belonged to his ancestors from the   
days when Kyoto had still been the capitol of Japan. He moved past most of the graves without giving   
them even a glance, pushing through the fog that had fallen over the landscape, and not stopping until   
he reached the farthest corner of the area, where the newest additions of his bloodline had been laid to   
rest. The gravestone he was standing before now was made of simple, smooth black marble with the   
name of its owner chiselled onto its surface with large, bold golden kanji letters. The name on the stone   
was Yagami Hitomi. 

"Hello mother," the young man spoke as he looked down at the headstone, a twinge of sorrow showing   
on his usually stoic face. "I know I haven't been visiting as regularly as I should have, but you probably   
already know the reason behind that, so I won't be going there now and instead get right into the reason   
of my visit." 

Kneeling down on one leg, the young man placed the sake bottle next to him while unwrapping the stack   
roses he had brought with him and then laid them on the grave. "Happy birthday mother. I hope you are   
at peace, wherever you are right now, and that you aren't disappointed with what I've become. Yes, I   
know that I probably aren't the kind of man you envisioned me to become during the time you carried   
me in your womb, but at least I'm different from what father was…" he paused, looking up into the clear   
blue sky, "Or at least that is what I would like to believe." 

Sighing heavily, the young man picked up the sake bottle, pulled off the wooden cork from the ceramic   
container, and then proceeded to pour half of its content on the headstone. "This is good sake, mother. I   
know, I tasted it before I brought it here for the sake of ensuring it." 

Sitting down, he took a swing for himself too. "Yeah, I know this stuff isn't good for me, but I need to do   
this once in a while, just to dull the ache in my mind if for nothing else. Father did pretty well in training   
me to ignore the psychical pain, but never how to do the same with the emotional kind…" He paused for   
a moment, closing his eyes as he took several calming breaths before continuing. "Mother, I'm hurting on   
the inside. I think it started on the day of my birth, the same day you died." 

"I have found myself often wondering what it would have been like had you not passed away. Would   
have father acted differently while raising me? Would he have allowed me to have friends? Would you   
have shown me the parental love father never did? Would I have siblings? And would I still feel this   
burning hate growing within me?" 

He shook his head. "No, maybe its better if we don't go there. It would just make me even more   
depressed than what I already am." 

After a several relaxing moments of silence, the young man turned his gaze heavenward again and let   
out a long breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding. "I wish I wouldn't be so alone. I wish I had   
someone close to spend time with, someone to talk to, someone to whom I could open myself to without   
the fear of rejection, and someone who wouldn't be afraid of the monster that I am…" 

For a long time there was nothing, not even the sound of wind passing through, but just then, when he   
was about to break the silence himself, he heard a loud creaking sound coming from the direction of the   
gates he had passed through earlier to get here. 

Curious, the young man stood up and turned his gaze towards the aforementioned direction, to see who   
was the one who dared to walk upon the grounds that belonged to his clan. At first he saw nothing but   
the fog, which had grown thicker since the moment he had arrived. But as the time passed, he began to   
hear sounds of someone walking down the path leading to him, and soon enough he could begin to see   
outlines of the figure associated with those sounds. 

"Who goes there?!" he yelled, not hiding his anger in his voice or on the expression he wore. While he   
may have not been exactly proud of his clan, or his ancestors, this was still their holy ground and not just   
anyone was allowed to enter here. 

The figure did not respond at first, and just kept walking forward. But in a few moments the figure   
became clearer, allowing the young man to see that the intruder was a tall male, a Caucasian, with a   
shoulder length blonde hair, light grey trenchcoat, straight grey pants, and simple black leather shoes   
that didn't seem to be of any particular brand he could recognize. The man looked to be slightly taller and   
older than him, though the later was hard to tell with all the heavy stubble he had around his face. But   
what really caught the observer's attention was the small black leather briefcase he was carrying. 

Standing in waiting, the son of Yagami Hitomi glared at the approaching visitor who dared to trespass   
here without permission, and began to think of ways how he would be able to inflict the maximum pain to   
this disrespectful gaijin for soiling this place with his presence. The only thing that kept him from   
attacking the man straight out was his curiosity. 

After a short moment the man was standing before him, his dark blue eyes locked with his brown ones.   
"Hello," the man started, trying to sound friendly, but after noticing the hostile glare and the lack of   
response decided that it would be better if he continued by himself. "I know you don't know me, but you   
can call me Elijah. No, I'm neither a relative nor a friend of the family, but I do know of you, and of your   
history." 

The younger man narrowed his eyes, but could not mask his curiosity in his gaze. 

The man smirked at him, but only for a brief moment. "Your name is Yagami Iori. Officially you are the   
last living member of your clan that has existed for nearly two thousand years, of which it has been in a   
blood feud with another equally old clan, the Kusanagi clan, for over six hundred years. You were raised   
by your father alone, who trained you in your family art, known as the Yagami-ryu Kobujutsu, and also   
how to use the power given to you by your heritage. He died four years ago, at the age of fifty, as a   
victim of the ambition of your ancestors, consumed by the cursed blood, which you both share and which   
bestows you your power." 

At the end of his speech, the man noticed how the young man had become visibly tense, and realized   
that the smartest thing to do now would be probably getting to the point of his visit. "The reason behind   
why I have come here is because I have come across information that you might be interested of. It   
concerns your family, or rather your father specifically. Will I stop here, or do you wish to hear more?" 

"Talk…" It was but a single word, but the tone of voice it was said with, made it sound like a deadly   
threat. 

"I know you are quite familiar with what kind of a man your father was," Elijah paused for a second as he   
noticed Iori's eyebrow twitch, "So I think it might not come as a surprise to you if I told you that your   
father had a mistress. It was not a long term relationship, for it last only for a year, but one that bore   
fruit that not even your father was aware of." A smug smirk decorated Elijah face as he watched how the   
stoic, but threatening expression on Iori's face suddenly transformed into one of surprise and utter   
disbelief. "Yes, that is correct. You have a brother, congratulations." 

At first Iori could only stare at the man, his mind still reeling itself after the information bomb the   
stranger had just thrown at him. But as he gradually recovered, he began to grow irritated by the grin   
directed towards him and quickly brought up his anger again. "Okay you prick, you better have some   
solid proof of this, or you'll be finding yourself with a new asshole pretty soon!" 

Calmed by the sudden appearance of a small purple flame on the younger man's right palm, Elijah wiped   
away his smug expression and quickly brought up the briefcase he carried. "Here," he said while handing   
out a thin light brown paper folder from the briefcase. "The first file is a copy of medical records that   
belongs to your father's mistress; the second one is the birth certificate of her son, dated about two   
years after your own birth, and some other social information such as home address and alike. I'm sure   
you'll find the evidence you're looking for at the birth certificate, on the spot where the child's blood type   
is mentioned." 

With his hands shaking, Iori quickly leafed through the files and found the spot he had been just told of.   
The blood type had been labelled as AB+, but with additional note that spoke of a strange anomalous   
pattern in the blood sample that should be further investigated. While it did not exactly prove anything   
yet, it did somewhat solidify Elijah's claim, but not to the extent where Iori would yet be willing to trust   
him yet. 

"This information proves very little yet," Iori stated while staring at the man with slightly less hostility.   
"How any of this is supposed to prove your claim that this woman, whose medical files you've just given   
me, even was my father's mistress, or that her son is truly related to me? Or are you really expecting me   
to believe just your word and some ink on the paper?" 

Elijah was smiling again, though in much more friendly manner than before. "I don't need to prove   
anything. All the information you seek is available to you through those files. The only thing you need to   
do is to follow the leads therein to their source, as that's where all the answers to your questions will be."   
With that said, he closed his briefcase and prepared to leave. 

"Hey, wait! I'm not through with you yet!" Iori yelled as he lunged forward, intending to beat the gaijin   
into giving him something else than just some cryptic bullshit. But as soon as he was about to reach him,   
an incredibly strong gust of wind blew right into his face that forced him to close his eyes for a brief   
moment. It lasted for a mere second, but as soon as he reopened his eyes, he realized that the man he   
had been looking forward to beating into a bloody pulp was nowhere to be seen. Even the fog had   
disappeared. All that remained of his mysterious informant was the small folder he still had gripped   
tightly in his hands. 

"Crap…" If there were one thing that Iori hated and would have to name, then it would be mysteries. He   
had never been good at puzzles, and his patience was as short as the gap between his brain lobes. And   
what was worse was the fact that he wouldn't be able to solve this problem by his usual methods, by   
beating into submission. He might actually need to use his head this time. No, things were definitely not   
looking good for him. 

Turning back to his mother's grave, he picked up the sake bottle, put the cork back on, and gave a quick   
peck on the headstone before standing back. "I'm sorry mother, but I need to cut my visit short this   
time. Something's come up, and I really need to look into this. I'll make up for this on my next visit, I   
promise!" And with that said he was off. 

Looking down at the files he had been give, Iori gazed down at the name of the woman whom Elijah had   
claimed to be his father's old mistress. She had a rare last name, which would make his search much   
easier than what he had expected, even more so when he noticed that her home address was   
located in right here, in Kyoto. 

Just how many Saotomes could there possibly be in this city? 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   
End of Prologue…   
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Ok, first of all, I would like to apologize to the old fans of the original work, which I did slightly over two   
years ago under different penname. It didn't go far, just one chapter…one BIG chapter, and it was posted   
only at two small private sites, but it still gradually got quite a large-scale response due time. I wasn't   
able to continue the original story for two reasons. One, it was full of grammar errors and was badly   
plotted, something where I could not, at my current level, just go create and sequel without redoing it   
from the very start, which brings us here at present day. I changed my pen-name, rewrote the entire   
plot, leaving only the base setting untouched, did some major consulting with the right side of my brain   
on how to write this thing down, and voila. 

Now I know this wasn't exactly long chapter, but then again, it wasn't meant to be. It was meant to   
attract the attention of the readers, to get them hooked (of which I am not quite certain yet). Of course   
the main idea here was still basically just to create something that the people could enjoy to read and I   
could enjoy writing without becoming any further insane than what I already am. I hope I succeeded at   
least at some extent. 

Anyways, I'll be trying to get the next chapter done as soon as I can. I'm a busy person at the time being   
though; so don't be expecting an update anytime soon. If you're lucky, I'll get something done by the   
end of the month, hopefully a chapter three times, or at least twice as big as this one was. But until   
then… 

Next Chapter: Unexpected Visitors   



End file.
